The Next Generation
by D of The DA's Office
Summary: Chris and Rita finish up a lecture at the Palm Beach Police Academy, and field questions from the graduating class of cadets. (Post-5th Season, follows the timeline set in Love Conquers All.)


_This story follows the "Love Conquers All" timeline: beyond Classic 5th Season, with the Sams partnered, pregnant, married - and as always, in love._

* * *

Rita clicked the computer mouse a final time, and the Palm Beach Police Department logo was displayed across the giant screen of the Academy's Krane Auditorium. She and Chris had represented the Homicide Division in a lecture to the graduating class of cadets. Stepping out from behind the podium, she addressed the group with her closing advice as she slowly walked the length of the stage.

"We are Homicide cops: we deal with death every day. I'm sure there is some predisposition that helps us be okay with that, but everyone has their limits. Allow yourself to get angry or sad – constructively. All the while...be humble and grateful just to be alive. Someone once told me that if you don't _let_ yourself feel the bad stuff, sooner or later you won't be _able_ to feel the good stuff. Please, make that conscious effort not to let yourself go numb.

"Believe it or not, this job makes you very appreciative of life. It's value, it's sacredness. When you lose that, you have served your time, and it's time to exit. Have rules and lines that you will not cross, not for any reason. Because, if you do, you will stand a real chance of losing your very self. Sergeant Lorenzo? Do you have anything else you'd like to add?"

Chris ducked his head and nodded, as was his way. "Remember the importance of debriefing. Of decompression. There will be cases that bother you – that will _always_ stick with you. There will be _types_ of cases that bother you. Like Lieutenant Lance mentioned, know your limits; have fail-safes in place. She and I are always available if you need to talk. It sounds like a load, but have positive outlets. Basketball, golf –" Chris flashed a Lorenzo-patented grin, that only Rita understood, "– have hobbies. Maintain respect for life, but try not to take everything too seriously or you'll burnout a heck of a lot sooner."

"Lieutenant, Sergeant," the instructor exclaimed, "I really appreciate you guys coming down here. Cadets? I know you have questions, so fire away."

"_How long have you been a team?"_

Chris offered Rita the floor. "We've been best friends for over nine years, and partners for over five."

"_Lt. Lance, is it true that you are the youngest woman in Palm Beach's history to have earned a gold shield?"_

"Ah, yes. That's true."

Chris interjected, "graduated number one in her class at the Academy, decorated twice for valor." He smiled as Rita cocked her head at him and the shout-out.

"_Sgt. Lorenzo, what kind of material is covered on the Sergeant's Exam?"_

"There are four categories to the Exam, each with its own book. Criminal Law, Ordinances, Policies and Procedures, and Supervision."

Piping in, Rita added, "thankfully, the city has finally updated its ordinances. The 'colonial' ones won't be on the Exam when any of you take it in the future. But, if you want a good laugh, check out the Archives. Sgt. Lorenzo, would you mind telling the class about Palm Beach's legal stance on gas lights and the lawful hitching of horses?"

"Well, Lieutenant, it is unlawful for any citizen/civilian to extinguish city gas lights, and all horses must be hitched to a horizontal hitching post, and at no time shall ever be hitched to any vertical pole."

His recitation earned him more than a few snickers, and he pointed to the next student.

"_Lieutenant, is it true that a female cop may have to go undercover as a prostitute, even if she isn't assigned to Vice?"_

"Yeah...about that," Rita drawled with a smirk, scrunching up her face. "That's usually an 'all hands on deck' kind of recruitment. There aren't enough female cops in Vice – or even in the Department – to conduct those stings, so yeah, we all help. Plus, it's not just Vice that might require that cover. Even as Homicide I headed up my own sweep where the hookers were replaced with cop decoys to catch a serial killer."

A Cheshire-cat grin slowly spread across Rita's face, and she leisurely began to make her way back to the podium. "But! Gentlemen, you are not completely exempt. Thankfully, every so often, us ladies get some cosmic justice on our side."

Rita looked to Chris, who was fiddling with his wedding band and not paying attention to the massive white screen. She scanned through their additional presentation images and clicked the dual photo of the Sterling Silver's club-front and Chris undercover onstage. "I'd like to introduce you to Rocky, 'the Long Arm of the Law.'"

Chris whipped his head up and then toward the screen as the room erupted into whooping and hollering. "That – that's cute, Sam. That's very funny."

Rita chuckled. "Surely, you don't still feel cheap and humiliated, like some sex object, now do you, Sam?"

Chris addressed the whole assembly. "Hands down...the most embarrassing undercover gig I have _ever_ pulled. Ladies, I salute you." Glad to change the subject, he called on another cadet.

"_Why did you both just call each other 'Sam'?"_

Chris beamed. Laughing, he replied, "wow, we haven't been called out on that in years."

Chris and Rita looked to each other, radiating pride and affection, and exclaimed in unison, "'Slammin' Sammy Snead, the greatest golfer who ever lived!'"

Rita continued, "it's... It's the nickname we have used for – nearly a decade now." The time frame seemed to pleasantly surprise her. "Yeah, pretty much our whole friendship. Honestly...we couldn't even begin to describe what it means – it would take up an entire lecture by itself."

"_Sgt. Lorenzo, do you feel that having a female partner is a distraction?"_

Before Chris could respond, the cadet's classmates, both female and male, fired off a slew of retorts. "Drake, you Neanderthal!" Two wads of paper bounced off the back of his head. "Seriously, bro?"

Drake tried to defend himself, addressing Rita specifically. "Ma'am, I meant no disrespect. It's just... You're stunning." He looked to Chris, pleading assistance with his eyes. "Has that ever been a problem, Sergeant?"

Chris, willing to help the younger man out, tried to diffuse the group. "Drake, is it? You have the right to remain silent, Son." As laughter rippled from all those present, Chris succeeded, and continued. "I think I understand what you're trying to say. Good call; the Lieutenant here is beautiful, and there have been times when, hard to believe, she is even more –" Chris gestured to Drake with his hand, quoting the cadet, "– stunning. However, that has never interfered with the job. I am fully capable of functioning in the presence of a beautiful woman, thank you very much."

Feeling Rita's gaze on him, Chris cringed. He feigned innocence as best he could. "The job? Right, Sam? It's never interfered with the job?"

Rita merely exclaimed, "mmm," narrowing her eyes and smirking at him.

"You all better be capable, too," Chris continued. "And! Just so we're clear: Rita is a damn good cop. Obviously, one of our best as her record and rank speak for themselves." Chris jogged over to the computer and searched for a particular image. He chose the picture showing one of Rita's firing range paper targets – where an entire 9mm clip had been emptied into a one-inch grouping in the center of the head outline. "You tell me if this proves my female partner is qualified to watch my back." His evidence and authoritative tone left no room for question.

"Speaking of marksmanship," Rita supplied, "where are the sharpshooters?"

She made quick count of the hands raised. "Fifteen of you having been awarded marksman medals, and of that fifteen, eight are female. I _think_ you all are in good hands. Also, understand that there is a beneficial and strategic dynamic to guy-girl partnering. Certain male interviewees will respond better to another male. Sometimes, woman-to-woman interaction will garner more information, while other times, it takes a handsome face like Sgt. Lorenzo's to get the goods."

Chris let out a "hah!" at Rita's analogy, but responded to the original question without further comment. "And, as a partnered team, the opposite-sex viewpoint can be essential when you're hashing out information with each other and trying to build a case."

"_What else makes a good partnership?"_

"Chemistry?" Chris quoted to Rita.

"Yeah, chemistry," she returned in kind. Neither detective moved to explain the classic cinematic reference, assuming the extremely young cadets would not know _Guys and Dolls_ any more than the Sams' personal favorites of _Casablanca_ or _Double Indemnity_.

Chris regarded Rita with reverence. "Rock-solid trust and honesty. You start doubting your partner, and you're dead."

"Communication," Rita volleyed with equal admiration. "For us, that has always come as second nature. Remember, we're best friends. We've been friends for nearly double the time we've been partners. I think, you have to be great friends to be great partners – don't forget, you will be together all hours of the day and night. You'll be closer with each other than most married people. I mean, your very lives are constantly in each other's hands."

Chris nodded in agreement. "Lastly, I vote 'respect.' The ability to question each other's speculations without attacking or it being perceived as an attack. Invoking 'club rules,' you take my theory, I'll take yours."

"Side note." This time the interjection was from the class instructor. "Everything Lt. Lance and Sgt. Lorenzo just said on partners is true. Over the course of your careers, you're looking to have upwards of four to five partners. If you're lucky, you'll get ones who have similar instincts, skills, and a code of ethics that compliment your own. That's when the magic happens. However... The partners before you are living legends. They have _alllll_ that – and then some. In the history of the Palm Beach PD, there has never been – and never will be – another team to compare to them. They possess this..._bond..._that is simply unmatched on the force. Fellow cops see it, the crazies see it, everyone does. I should know – I've been partners with both of them." Sgt. Derek McNeill mock-saluted the Sams. "Chris and I were partners on Narcotics, whereas Rita and I got to work a case when she was on loan-out assignment a couple years ago. This is the gold standard right here, people. This is what you are to strive to be like. _These_, are partners."

"_It really is obvious that you have an amazing connection. I can see you're both wearing wedding rings. Are your spouses jealous of your partnership with each other?"_

"An excellent question – and fair enough," Rita quipped. "We have had to defend our partnership, and our friendship, for the whole, entire time. Many people we dated in the past couldn't understand the way it is between us. I ran interference on Chris' behalf many times to assure a girlfriend that I wasn't a threat. The key? Truthfulness. We have more integrity than that. And, now...Chris, is your wife jealous of me?"

"My wife is not jealous of you," he replied matter-of-factly. "How about your husband?"

"No. He isn't jealous either. We are actually great friends with each other's spouse." The veteran undercover officers gave stellar performances in their slanted presentation of the truth.

"_Are your spouses okay with the dangers of the job?"_

Chris grew serious, pondering his response. "That, is also a great question. For starters, civilians – who marry cops – are some of the toughest people in the world. Never forget that. Do everything in your power to balance the job and your home life. Remember, your spouse is your partner, too. You are a team. Never go at a decision alone. The job might trump any choice the two of you would make, but never make the call yourself. Now, to answer your question, Lt. Lance and I are married to police officers, so yes, our spouses understand the dangers."

"_Have you had any close calls out on the line?"_

Rita nodded, solemnly. "Oh, yes. We have had our share of close calls. Sgt. Lorenzo has been shot three times in his career. I have been shot twice. We have been 'shot at'...more times than I care to count. Obviously –" Rita held out her arms, looking down and drawing full attention to her protruding abdomen, "– I have taken myself out of the action now. But, not even twenty-four hours after finding out that I was pregnant? I was diving to the ground to dodge a bullet. That was definitely a turning point for me."

Rita fixated her gaze on the floor as she searched her memory. "So, aside from hundreds of bullets...I had a suspect go up in a car bomb when I was twenty feet away, I was almost strangled by a serial killer, I've tackled a civilian to the ledge of a high-rise building to keep her from jumping off, I've been held at knife-point, been almost run down by a car several times... Chris?"

"Almost run down by a car several times; JT Austin punched me in the face – thankfully, without his championship ring; I've been hit with a pipe a couple times, a baseball bat. I was almost harpooned...good times."

Derek addressed his students again. "The case study we completed? With the crazy DDA?" He motioned to both friends. "Sgt. Lorenzo was the officer shot – Lt. Lance was the one shot at in the garage."

Respectfully, the cadets murmured to each other, awed at the powerful correlation.

Rita face reflected the pain from years past that had rocked her entire existence. "That...is every cop's worst nightmare. When Sgt. McNeill and I arrived at the DDA's apartment, Sgt. Lorenzo was covered by a blanket, but he wasn't moving. I remember how striking that was to me – his stillness. Once we knew he had been shot...seeing his blood, having to do CPR... Then, there was the ride to the hospital, the _wait_ at the hospital, the wait of three days for him to fully regain consciousness..." Rita looked away, furrowing her brow and concentrating on the actual, fortunate aftermath.

Chris rubbed a hand sideways across her upper back, reaffirming his presence. "I was shot in the chest," he explained to the class, "but the muscles in my right shoulder were damaged as well. Fun fact, I shoot righthanded. For those of you who already live, breathe, eat, sleep 'being a cop'...you can understand how that affected my very identity. The time it took to heal – man! I just didn't have the patience for that. It really knocked me sideways."

He gave his head a quick shake. "Lt. Lance mentioned my blood... Having your partner's blood on you is something you never forget – no matter how good the outcome actually is. I can remember that vividly from both times she was shot." Chris looked to his open right hand before making a fist, willing away the haunting mirage that only he could see.

His thoughts turned to the harrowing events where he himself had been in Rita's position of waiting, left terrorized at the prospect of losing his Sam. "Twice...I have received 'that call' where Rita's condition was unknown, but something life-threatening had gone down. The first time was the shooting in the garage, and the second was the explosion she mentioned. The car ride...till you reach your partner...you feel every _inch_ of the road. Time stands still and your thoughts are just screaming.

"I was lucky both those times. But, the first time I got a call like that? Dispatch told me there had been a murder in Rita's apartment. A female, Rita's size, her color hair, and it was a shotgun blast to the face, so we lost the features." Chris set his expression into a hard stare, his voice rough with emotion. "For almost twenty-four hours before I got the conclusive negative ID, I had to battle the possibility that I had lost Rita forever."

Chris locked gazes with his soulmate, his grimace softening as they basked in the sheer blessing afforded to them with each other's safety.

Without breaking the precious eye contact, Rita exclaimed, "as I said, this job makes you humble...grateful...and very appreciative of life."

Snapping out of their somber reverie, they called on the next cadet.

"_So...just how bad are decomposed bodies, and as Homicide cops, do you really have to attend autopsies?"_

Both Chris and Rita burst into laughter, welcoming the lighter topic. Chris began, "yes, you do have to attend organ recitals – I mean, autopsies. I used to tell Rita that it didn't matter if you vomited during one because you couldn't make it smell any worse."

"Thank you, Christopher," Rita replied, shaking her head. "Yes, yes, he did. What he failed to mention to you all was that he was _eating_ at the time this comment was made – _during_ the autopsy."

A collective "eww!" resounded throughout the room.

Rita chuckled and nodded in agreement. "To this day, I can never eat at one, or after one. As for decomposition...yeah, it can get pretty bad. And, just know, there is no decomp like saltwater decomp. That will be the worst. I was really nervous to get a case like that while being pregnant. You know, with the heightened sense of smell. But," Rita shrugged, "so far, I've handled them as well as I ever have. Which, reminds me. We've joked about getting sick, but it really can happen. As rookies, your reaction – either good or bad – to new things will stay with you your whole career. Some veterans will make it harder on you than others, but never forget that every veteran was once in your shoes. There was a first time for all of us."

Sgt. McNeill checked his watch. "All right, people, anything else? No? Okay, we are dismissed for lunch, then. I want you back in your seats by 1300 hours for the next lecture, copy that? Lt. Lance, Sgt. Lorenzo, really guys, thank you again."

The class applauded with gusto, having thoroughly enjoyed the presentation and the Sams themselves.

Derek said his goodbyes, offering an apology for not being able to stay longer, but needing to prepare for the rest of his teaching day. A few students lingered, asking quick questions, or shaking hands and thanking Chris and Rita personally.

One final, petite cadet approached the seasoned officers as they gathered up their belongings and shut down the computer.

"Ma'am? Sir? Cadet Gianna Sparnelli. It's been a privilege and an honor listening to you both today."

"Thank you, Sparnelli," Chris replied. "Uh, any relation to Angelo in Robbery and Tony in Bunco?"

"Yes, sir, my dad and my uncle. When I told them you would be speaking today, Uncle Tony said to tell you 'twenty bucks that the Phillies sweep the Braves starting this Friday.'"

"Hah! You tell ol' Tony, I'll take that bet."

Rita approached, shifting her black leather organizer from one arm to the other so she could shake hands with the cadet. "They're both great guys. Give them my best, okay?"

"I will, I will. You know, Lieutenant, you have the respect of every female cadet at this Academy – and I guarantee, all the guys' now, as well. And, for you both, every cop I've ever known throughout the years who's mentioned either of you, has always had amazing things to say, too."

"Well, thank you," Rita blushed.

"So, Cadet," Chris mused, "you caught on to our connection, to our rings...you questioned our spouses' take on our relationship – that's pretty impressive stuff. I'd say you have a future as a Detective, wouldn't you say so, Lt. Lance?"

"I would definitely say so. An observant markswoman, who's ranked number one in this year's class and led the Cadets in the Department's Fitness Test..."

Both Chris and Gianna appeared surprised at Rita's knowledge of the cadet's placings.

"It's nearing recruitment time," Rita remarked slyly, her eyes glinting. "I did my homework before coming here today."

Laughing, Chris merely nodded, while Gianna remained stunned.

Rita continued, "with scores like yours, Sparnelli, you'll be able to pick and choose from any of the Divisions. Have you decided on where you'll apply?"

The young cadet attempted to dispel her sudden nerves. "Ah, well, it was never much of a decision, really. I've always been drawn to Homicide. And, you both completely solidified it for me today." She chuckled, "I'm planning to put in my request as soon as I set foot off that stage at graduation."

"That's fantastic!" Rita exclaimed. "We'd be lucky to have you. I'll tell you what, if you bring your request form to graduation, I will sign off on it right there and then."

Gianna beamed. "It's a promise! Wow, my dad is going to be _so_ stoked." Still trying to process it all, she gave her head a quick shake and held out her hand. "Well, _thank you_, again. For everything. I'll let you two get out of here."

She had only retreated a few steps before she paused and snickered, half-turning back around for one final query. With her face emanating an astute amusement and crafty curiosity, Gianna asked, "um, just for the record...who exactly are your spouses?"

The tables turned, the Sams gaped wide-eyed at each other, unsure how to respond. With one accord, they opened their mouths to speak – but then, simply pointed to one another, looked back to Gianna, and broke out into laughter.

"What are you? A cop?" Chris fired back, impressed again.

"We...didn't want to broadcast that part," Rita explained, tucking her hair behind her left ear as she glanced back and forth between Chris and Gianna. "It's not the way this usually works. I mean, that's Rule Number One in the manual. Nothing physical between partners. We _really_ threw the Department for a loop, and gave ourselves one hell of a fight. That bond that everyone saw for so many years was our saving grace because – for the record – we've only been together and married for seven months. You do the math for how long we were able to maintain being 'just' partners."

"And, Sparnelli?" Chris appealed. "You'd be doing us a solid if you didn't say anything to your classmates. It's not like they won't find out once they reach the Department, but I don't want the married angle to compromise everything that was said about partnerships. All that still holds true."

Gianna began walking backwards toward the door. Thrilled to share the confidence of the infamous Lance and Lorenzo duo, she stated with conviction...

"Consider it a locked file!"


End file.
